Kings of Ghumai- The Complete series Box Set

by D N Meinster

  Her focus turned away from the outdoors and back to her boyfriend, still nestled under the covers of his bed. She had expected him to be furious that she’d gone after Neanthal without him. Instead, he’d understood. She only wished she’d been successful. His life was in danger this day because of her.

  The last time the three of them had battled Thalians in Kytheras, one of them had lost the person they cherished most. Leidess had been ripped away from them before their very eyes. She had not forgotten how Aros had behaved in the aftermath.

  What would happen if she lost Doren? While Aros only had blades to drive his rage, she had magic. The devastation she could unleash if she lost the love of her life could be world-ending. She couldn’t allow such a course of events to transpire for her sake and for all of Ghumai.

  Though they were going to war to stop Neanthal, Doren had to be her priority. She would do whatever it took to keep him safe on the battlefield, even if it cost her her life. Even if it cost Aros his life. Even if it meant Neanthal might be victorious. She was not going to lose Doren.

  “I will keep you safe,” she vowed to him, even though he wasn’t yet conscious enough to hear her.

  Rikki climbed back into bed, slipping underneath the sheets and wrapping herself around his naked torso. Neanthal hadn’t arrived yet. They could spare a few minutes.

  "Aros! You snoozy dork. Wake up!"

  One of Aros’ blue eyes peeked open. “Leidess?” he mumbled, still half asleep.

  Even with the smoot still hanging in the air, he could tell there was no one standing in front of him. Had he imagined her voice? Dreamed it?

  As he began to drift back to sleep, a rumble of thunder beckoned him to wake up.

  “I get it,” Aros growled, stretching his arms up as he forced himself to get moving.

  Another rumble broke out, but it did not come from the sky; it came from the room. Aros was not alone.

  He reached for a clawblade, only to find they were not in the proper place on his back. He’d set them down as he got to work.

  Before he became frantic, he searched for the source of the nearby noise. It was not threatening. It was snoring.

  Ratch was curled up near the furnace, letting out a tumultuous snort with every breath. His gray smock was covered with ash and sweat, though his ponytail maintained its form as he slept.

  Aros took note of his own attire. He’d not taken off the Roamer’s cloak even as he worked, and, as he’d expected, there was not a stain to be found on the golden yellow. Amelia’s magic protected the cloak just as it protected its wearer.

  At Aros’ station, which was little more than an oversized anvil, was Doren’s requested item. He’d finished it just before he’d apparently passed out. It wasn’t the only thing that had to be delivered to Castle Tornis.

  Scattered across the shop were the weapons Ratch and he had been working on for nearly all of yesterday. Most were simple swords, with the occasional shield thrown into the mix. They didn’t gleam nearly as much as their companions that hung from the walls of the shop.

  An unfinished blade was the only object atop Ratch’s station. His master must have fallen asleep while he was crafting it. Given his position, his last conscious act may have been extinguishing the fire within the stone furnace. There was not even a hint of smoke escaping from the maw of the chimney-like structure, meaning it was unlikely it’d gone out on its own in the middle of the night.

  They’d made as much weaponry as they could, but they were likely to come up short in either volunteers or swords. Combined with the stores in the castle, there may have been enough armaments. They only needed people to wield them.

  Aros glanced at one of the shop’s cupboards. Would Leidess have joined them if she’d been alive? Though she was not a warrior, she was an ace in Splitting. He couldn’t imagine her doing nothing during an invasion, even while many of her fellow Kytherans refused to act.

  He’d come to know someone just as gifted with a bow and arrow, but Loraya would not be aiding them. Aros had failed to convince her that her battle and his were inextricably linked. If Neanthal won, there would no longer be a Terrastream. At least he knew she would survive the day, when he may not.

  Faunli had abandoned them. Belliore had been depleted. There were not fifty Twileans left to fight alongside. Kytheras was standing almost entirely alone, and even then, most Kytherans would not join the fight.

  Aros moved over to a pile of swords and promptly kicked them into the wall.

  What good were all these weapons when no one would be using them? They’d wasted a day working when he should have spent it with the ones he loved. His mother. His friends. Loraya.

  “Keep it down,” Ratch growled from his spot on the floor.

  “So you can sleep through thunder, rain, and your own snoring, but not that?” Aros replied.

  Ratch struggled as he pushed himself onto his feet. “What time is it?”

  Aros hadn’t even stolen a look at the clock or the window. “Umm…”

  Ratch stumbled over to a clock and pulled it up to his face. “We better get moving. Think we’ll even need the cart for this order.”

  “Did you say you wanted to use a cart?” For as long as he’d known him, Ratch had preferred carrying his orders in his arms and walking them to the delivery spot. He didn’t even know there was a cart.

  “Let me go find it,” Ratch said, dragging himself towards the back of the shop.

  Aros began to pick up the swords he kicked, along with others in the vicinity. He placed them atop Ratch’s anvil before going back to retrieve more.

  Ghumai was letting their goddess down on this day. They could only hope that She did not let them down. And having personally spoken to Her, he didn’t think She would.

  A constant, irritating squeal announced Ratch’s return, ceasing only when he’d pushed the ancient cart into position. “Pile it all on,” Ratch said, tossing his own war hammer into the cart first.

  While they piled up the newly crafted shields and swords, Aros made sure to leave Doren’s straps alone on his station. They get lost underneath the clutter of steel. He’d have to deliver them to his friend, personally.

  The sensation around Doren’s side and back was at first unrecognizable, and it took him a few blinks of consciousness to put together where that warm pressure was coming from.

  He was in bed with Rikki. It felt more like a fantasy or dream that such a course of events should transpire in his old bedroom.

  He could feel her gentle breath upon his skin; the rhythm of her breathing and heartbeat soothing his very soul. There was no reason to move. This was exactly where he wanted to be; where he’d always wanted to be.

  How was is that such a fantastic awakening could lead to a day that would undoubtedly bring about untold horrors?

  Even as he appreciated what he had there, at that moment, he knew what was coming. The Beast marched back to his city, his kingdom.

  Were they his? He was Prince. There was no higher authority than his, except for the Goddess.

  Doren tried to shake the thoughts away, but his slight movement alerted Rikki.

  “Finally awake?” she whispered.

  Doren replied with a combination of sigh and grunt.

  Her fingers slid through the back of his hair. “I wish we could stay here all day.”

  Doren finally rubbed his eyes open and turned to face her. “You’re the mage. Make it happen.”

  She gave him a slight smile as they stared into each other’s eyes. “I’m only a mage. Not a goddess.”

  Doren reached out and brought her closer to him as they lie together, their nude forms cuddling each other beneath the sheets. “Can I abdicate now?” he asked, wanting nothing more than to stay in bed with her and avoid the responsibilities that were being laid upon him.

  What if they lost on this day? What if they didn’t make it? This time together could be all they’d get in their entire lives. He didn’t want to consider that by tomorrow, one or b
oth of them would be in the Bastion, but the possibility of it was too great. They were going up against a demigod, and only one of them had abilities that made it a proper match.

  “If we stay here, we know who will possess the castle tomorrow.”

  Doren slid his hand into Rikki’s. “Can’t you manipulate time?”

  Rikki moved closer, placed her lips on his and gave him a tender kiss. But once they broke apart, she rushed out of bed. “We can’t today, Doren.”

  Doren couldn’t help staring at her as she stood there naked, her back facing him. Never before had he beheld a sight so beautiful. “How else can we make these perfect moments last forever?”

  She spun and looked directly at him. “If we win, we can have as many of these moments as we want.”

  Doren wasn’t counting on victory any more than he was counting on a goddess to intervene and save them. She seemed to do little more than speak and let others do the fighting for Her.

  He shuffled out of bed and took Rikki into his arms.

  “We can win,” she insisted, as if she sensed his doubt.

  “I believe you can,” Doren replied. He was less certain that he would live to see the next morning.

  “And that means you will too.”

  Doren took a glance towards the window, spotting the light drizzle outdoors. Maybe the weather slowed down the Thalian march. Maybe they had a bit more time.

  Aros announced his arrival with a thud as his feet touched the ground and a, “Hey!”

  Both Rikki and Doren looked at their friend.

  “I brought—”

  Aros finally noticed his friends were completely naked. He slapped a free hand to his eyes and made for the door, but he wound up running into the wall and falling backward.

  With a twist of her wrist, the sheets from the bed floated through the air and wrapped around herself and her boyfriend.

  “I’m sorry,” Aros murmured from the floor, his eyes squeezed closed.

  “It’s okay.” Rikki and Doren started to giggle.

  “We’ve been dillydallying,” Doren said.

  “Right. Dillydallying,” Aros repeated.

  Doren stepped closer to his friend and took a gander of what he had in his possession. He reached down and relieved his friend of the straps. “These are for me?”

  “Newly made,” Aros replied.

  “Thank you.” He took Aros’ arm and pulled him back onto his feet.

  “Is it safe to look?”

  “Always has been,” Rikki said. “We’re not embarrassed.”

  Aros opened one eye first. Once he confirmed that they were each safely covered by a sheet, he opened the other. “I thought you two would…But I guess this makes sense. Should I have gone to see Loraya? I mean, she is kinda abandoning us, though.”

  Doren sighed and started searching for his undergarments before he remembered they’d been sent for a wash.

  “Ratch is in the square, handing out weapons,” Aros told them. “There are some AGTs there waiting for us.”

  “How many volunteers showed?”

  “Not enough,” Aros said.

  Doren picked up his shield and stared at the symbol of the Five Kingdoms that had long ago been engraved in the bronze metal. The T shape for Tunsev, the branches for each kingdom, and the dot for the islands. To rule over them all was a heavy burden, and only one other man had. King Aergo had seen his first kingdom formed, and all of his descendants had ruled but one of the five. Doren was the first Tunsev in hundreds of years to behold a restored continent. But they were not united any longer. If they had been, perhaps he wouldn’t be so sure that they were going to lose.

  “I better get our clothes,” Doren said, and he moved past Aros and headed into the corridor. The dream was over. It was time to descend into the nightmare.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  To End All Battles

  A light drizzle touched down in Treatis Square as thousands of volunteers crowded about, standing around and waiting for their preparatory materials. The rain had not frightened them away, nor had the stories of the demigod they were about to face. But those that had arrived earlier were more drenched than their tardy cohorts.

  Ratch and a team of guardians were rushing about, distributing steel weaponry and armor to persons that lacked them. Those that were ready were shuffled to the nearest AGT, a fleet of which had parked themselves throughout the square. When they were filled up with volunteers and accompanying guardians, they promptly lifted from the ground and began their aerial trip to the Kytheran border. Most of the Kytherans froze as they watched the shiny vehicles rise into the air and take off from the vicinity. Such a new and perplexing sight still filled them with wonder.

  “Would you take it!” Ratch barked as he shoved a sword into the arms of a distracted volunteer.

  Doren, Aros, and Rikki emerged from the base of the castle into the square. They were each dressed in their respective Roamer’s cloaks, while the magnetic straps beneath the yellow and black-and-white material kept their weapons attached to their backs. All three marched in unison, a silent determination on their faces, while apprehension only showed in the eyes of the Prince.

  “Do you want to move the clouds along?” Doren asked Rikki.

  Rikki held out her palm. “It’s a light rain.” She was not going to waste her energy on the weather unless it was called for.

  Realizing she wasn’t about to stop the precipitation, Aros raised the hood of his cloak to cover his hair. His friends followed suit.

  “How many do you think we have?” Doren asked as he surveyed the crowd.

  Rikki had seen more people turn out for the Celebration. More space in the square seemed to be taken up by the AGTs than by the volunteers. Aros had been right. Not enough had shown.

  Aros stretched out a finger and tried to start counting, but as soon as one group began to enter a Bellish vehicle, he dropped his arm and shrugged. “I don’t think we can get an exact number.”

  Doren eyed Rikki and she shook her head. The number was not much different than they’d expected. It would be ten-to-one.

  As soon as Aros spotted Ratch, he took off, shouting back, “Ratch will have a better idea!”

  Ratch spared a second to give his apprentice a hug before resuming his duties.

  “How many do you think showed up?” Aros asked.

  Ratch pulled at his beard. “More than four thousand, I’d say. Might not even have enough weapons for ‘em all.”

  A shot of optimism coursed through Aros’ veins. “And how many are already at the border?”

  “Don’ got a number for ya. I think those Bellish already sent their metal men there, though.”

  Aros was pleased to hear that so many were already gathered at the border. At the very least, the kingdom would not be caught unprepared.

  “I’ll see you there after I’m done handing these out,” Ratch went on.

  Aros’ stomach instantly cramped. “What?”

  “You didn’ think I wasn’ gonna fight for my kingdom, did you?”

  He knew Ratch had brought his war hammer along, but he wasn’t expecting his master to head to the front lines. “But you have to protect my mother.”

  “There’s no better way of doin’ that than by stoppin’ Neanthal’s advance,” Ratch replied.

  Aros wanted to argue with him, but he couldn’t put together a cohesive line of reasoning.

  After Ratch distributed a sword, he placed a hand on Aros’ shoulder. “Look, my boy. I was a coward when those Thalians kidnapped me. What happened to Leidess, is my…is my…” He started to get choked up.

  “It’s not!” Aros insisted. He’d spent enough time blaming himself to know that Leidess’ death certainly wasn’t Ratch’s fault.

  “Either way, not gonna be a coward again. This time…I’ll fight.”

  Ratch started making his way back to the cart before Aros could further protest. He didn’t like that his master was going to put himself in such danger, but he respect
ed his position. After letting out a sigh, he returned to his friends.

  “Ratch is going to be fighting with us,” Aros told them, still slightly bewildered. “Also, he believes the peacekeepers are already at the border.”

  “They are,” Caterina interrupted as she snuck up on them. “You three can head over there as well. I’ll oversee the rest of our preparations.”

  “Who else is there?” Doren asked. So many from their meeting in the High Council chamber appeared to be absent.

  “The Twileans were the first to make their way,” Caterina answered. “There are some guardians along with the initial wave of volunteers, but I haven’t seen any Fauns or Streamers if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  “Three out of five kingdoms isn’t bad,” Aros said with a dash of hope.

  “What about M’dalla and Azzer?” Rikki asked. They’d sent them to sway the holdouts. Any chance of a complete alliance relied on them.

  “No shows,” Caterina replied. “No actual Bellish, either. Just their peacekeepers.”

  “That’s expected,” Rikki stated. She never thought that Lestrapel would join them on the battlefield.

  “Take an AGT when you’re ready,” Caterina said. “I’ll see you out there. May Magenine’s light point you true.” She pounded on her chest and made for the throng.

  Doren knew little of his new Head Guardian, having spent more time with Julius than any other guardian in his younger days. Julius had been appointed by his father, as all Head Guardians had once been. Caterina, however, had been selected by the guardians themselves in the absence of a king. Having been in the job for less than a deck, she was certainly impressive in the leadup to war.

  “Why would we take an AGT when we can shift there?” Aros said.

  “We can shift there,” Doren replied, pointing at himself and then Rikki. “You should stick with the transports.”